Huddy OneShot: Stop Deluding Yourself
by Muna16
Summary: House is back at work at PPTH but he has been avoiding Cuddy. She confronts him in this one scene.


**Stop Deluding Yourself**

Gregory House had been back from his twelve week stay at Mayfield Psychiatric Facility for nearly a month, but there was still nothing about his apartment that he took for granted. The smell of his sheets, the feel of the comfy couch on his a$$, the coolness of the piano keys on his nimble fingers - everything about his apartment remained a wonder to him after those long weeks at Mayfield. Yet the loneliness he felt at Mayfield had managed to follow him home.

He was back at work at PPTH. It hadn't been easy, going back and working for Foreman until his license was fully reinstated, but he had done it. Foreman hadn't been too hard on him. Actually, Foreman had been quite uncomfortable with the idea that House worked for him. Everyone had actually been kind of uncomfortable around House. That was fine with him. All he needed was Wilson anyway, and he seemed happy to share his lunch with him just like before.

Even the awkwardness at the hospital had been a welcome distraction from the pain and loneliness. Wilson kept telling him it would take time, it would take time for things to come together, but he knew better than that. Time wouldn't cure the pain, and it wouldn't ease the loneliness. Time, was just that, time. It was just another way for him to measure his misery.

The knock on the door startled him. Wilson again, he thought, here in another pathetic attempt to get me to leave this place. He opened the door. It wasn't Wilson.

"What?" he said gruffly.

"Your license was fully reinstated today-" she said.

House was holding the door knob with his left hand and his cane with his right hand. He didn't want her to come in. He didn't want to talk to her at all. She stood in the hall.

"I know, I was at the hearing," he said as if the news was insignificant.

"I wasn't, you could have called," she said, displaying injury.

"Well, you are the Dean of Medicine, I thought you would be notified by the Board. I guess I'll see you on Monday."

He began to shut the door, but she held it open and stepped in.

"You've been back at the hospital for almost a month - you've been avoiding me."

"I have spent the month working for Foreman, just as the Board requested. It has been his job to deal with you, not mine." He said it matter-of-factly, as if these words would not hurt her.

"You're mad at me. If anyone here has a right to be angry-" she began, her voice getting louder.

"Knock your socks off Cuddy," he answered, keeping his voice level and in control.

He opened the door wider hoping to give her the hint that she was not welcome.

"You do your job, I'll do my job, and life will go on." He said it as if it were all inevitable.

"So that's it. That's what you want."

"That's it."

"After everything-"

"After everything."

"I thought things could be different." There was a trace of disappointment, but not too much. It was unclear if her disappointment was directed at him or at herself.

"They are."

"You're an a$$."

She turned around to leave but he suddenly shut the door with his cane and came up close behind her. She could feel his warm breath on her neck.

"I know."

She knocked the cane out of his hand and grabbed the door knob.

"I don't do noble, Cuddy, you know that. I'm trying."

She laughed out loud, demonically almost, in disbelief.

"Spare me your nobility House. This isn't you being noble. This is you being scared. Don't confuse fear with nobility - you would be deluding yourself all over again."

She meant for the words to cut him. She had been feeling guilt from the pain she caused him with the surgery after the infarction; she had been feeling guilt for not noticing he was spiraling out of control before his admission to Mayfield. She had been feeling all of this guilt, but he wasn't letting her in, and it was killing her. She intended to hurt him now the way he had done to her so many times.

She turned to go again, turning the knob and pulling the door open. He shut it with force and grabbed her, pushing his chest onto her back, lowering his face into her hair, wrapping his arms around her small frame.

"I'm tired of being scared." The words were barely audible, but she had heard them.

"Me too."

He started kissing her neck vigorously, and she turned towards him and pushed him away from her.

He stumbled back from her push, and looked into her blue-grey eyes. He wondered if he had just killed any possibility that they could ever find each other again the way they had done at Michigan, the way they had done at her house after she lost Joy. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but she looked furious.

Before he could open his mouth to apologize, her lips were on his. Her tongue demanded entrance, and he parted his lips and granted it. She was the aggressor now, greedily kissing him, devouring him with her teeth and her tongue. She ran her hands through his short hair, she sucked on his neck as she pushed his face towards her breasts.

It took everything he had to break the embrace. He stepped back for a moment and caught his breath. She looked into his deep blue eyes, the eyes that had seduced her all those years ago. His voice was raspy.

"Are you sure?"

She didn't answer him. At least, she didn't answer him with words. Her mouth found his again and she started to fidget with the buttons on his shirt desperately as his hands found the soft skin under her blouse. She moaned softly.

She had decided, as she had done at Michigan, that she would act on her instincts, on her desires. There would be time for them to analyze their feelings, to define their relationship, to figure out how they got here and where they were going.

She hoped they wouldn't scr** things up this time. For now, though, the loneliness and pain had disappeared, almost as quickly as their clothes.


End file.
